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Monday, November 9, 2009

This Is Where We Used to Live, Broke In To The Old Apartment

So I’m officially moving. The date is set. The truck is booked. And the inspection hoo-ha is finally over (finally!). Now I just need to put stuff in boxes, tape ‘em shut, fold some clothes, bubble wrap some wine glasses, take some pictures off the walls, clear some closets out… or, I could just ignore that whole packing thing and throw a party with my neighbors instead. Um, I think I’m gonna go with the last one.

Yesterday, the DH and I hosted a party I’ve aptly named “Goodbye Sweet Neighbors! I shan’t forget you!” (If anyone gets that cultural reference, I’ll send you some packing peanuts.) After six years, I can now officially say that we can cram 20 people into our house (including neighbors, a sprinkling of family, and some pint-sized toddler friends).



I made butternut squash and sweet potato soup; grilled thyme chicken sandwiches with brie, apple butter, pears, granny smiths, and spinach; and a spring mix salad with apples, pears, cranberries, pine nuts, and goat cheese. Fancy, right? Though I hardly ate anything. That’s my problem with cooking for large parties, I spend so much time working on the food that I no longer have interest in eating it. I wonder if Rachael Ray has a cure for that?

Anyway, the best part of the whole party was the champagne toast where my DH and I got to look out at all of our full-of-awesome neighbors who have lived next to us for the past six years. That really will be the saddest part of this move—not the house, or the location, or the Starbucks down the street. But I’ll miss our courtyard friends who throw BBQs, Halloween parties, Christmas parties, and even feed my cat when we go on vacation.

I hope the new owners appreciate them as much. If not, I’m leaving specific instructions with our ghosts to haunt them freely until they do.


POP CULTURE RANT: Bare Naked Ladies
You can’t pack up a house without having “The Old Apartment” stuck in your head. I keep dusting off vases and packing books humming, “I know we don’t live here anymore…This is where we used to live!” Another artist really needs to make a song like this. All these sappy tunes about romance, break ups, heartbreak--we need more moving day representation in modern lyrics. Everybody moves.

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